The Knicks Just Told the Hawks Exactly Who They Need to Become
Hawks

The Knicks Just Told the Hawks Exactly Who They Need to Become

Simone EdgewoodMay 28, 2026 · 4 min read
Photo by Chaojie Ni via Unsplash

The Knicks Just Told the Hawks Exactly Who They Need to Become

The Knicks didn't just get to the Finals. They got there in a way that makes everything harder to ignore.

Fourteen playoff games. Twelve wins. Two hundred and seventy-one points. A four-game sweep of a Cavaliers team that was supposed to be the Eastern Conference's best argument against New York — and then a victory lap through the bracket that looked less like a run and more like an indictment. The Hawks watched from a couch, probably the same one they've been sitting on since the 140-89 implosion that ended their season six weeks ago. And somewhere between Brunson's third or fourth go-ahead jumper in crunch time, a question settled into the room that nobody has been able to shake since: what, exactly, are you building toward?

This is the fork.

Not a crisis — the Hawks aren't in crisis. Jalen Johnson is 24 years old, signed through 2030, and just earned his first All-Star berth, his first All-NBA Third Team selection, and a franchise record for triple-doubles in a season. He had 49 double-doubles this year, and a stat line — 22.5 points, 10.3 rebounds, 7.9 assists — that reads like a player in the middle of becoming something, not a player who has arrived. That distinction matters. Dyson Daniels made the All-Defensive Second Team at 23. He averages 2.0 steals per game in a way that looks effortless and is not. Nickeil Alexander-Walker won Most Improved Player with 66 of 100 first-place votes, doubled his career scoring average, made 251 threes, and somehow still felt like a surprise when he was good. This roster did something real this year.

But the Knicks just told them how far "something real" actually is from what they're watching on television.

The Marc Stein report landed mid-May: the Hawks, Rockets, and Blazers all have legitimate interest in Jaylen Brown if a Giannis-to-Boston scenario shakes him loose. Brown is a 29-year-old wing who can manufacture his own shot against set defenses, create in isolation with the game on the line, and score in the fourth quarter of a playoff game without needing the system to hold his hand. He is, structurally, the one thing the Hawks could never produce on their own: a closer.

Here's the tension. The same front office that passed on Giannis Antetokounmpo in May — deliberately, on principle, as a statement about what they believe they're building — is now reportedly in conversations about Jaylen Brown. The easy read is contradiction. The harder read is more interesting: maybe it isn't.

Giannis at 31 would have reorganized everything. The offense, the spacing, the development timeline for Johnson, the entire identity Snyder has spent two years installing. Brown at 29 fits. He's a wing. He operates in movement. He doesn't require the ball in his hands to be useful, but he can demand it when the game goes sideways and everyone else runs out of answers. The Hawks' assist-rate problem in the Knicks series — they went from first in the league to looking like a completely different team in six games — was a symptom of not having anyone who could carry the offense when the movement stopped. Brown is exactly that. He's a piece that fits into the system without blowing it up, which is the condition the Giannis argument never satisfied.

That said: the Kuminga clock is ticking. June 29 — the team option deadline — is 32 days away. The Hawks acquired Jonathan Kuminga from Golden State in February for Kristaps Porzingis. There is mutual interest in a longer deal at a lower Year 1 salary. If they decline the $24.3M option, and if Buddy Hield's contract gets waived, Atlanta opens roughly $30 million in cap space. That's the mechanism that makes any of this possible. The decision to pull that trigger is the most revealing thing this front office will do all summer — not a press conference, not a statement, not a podium quote about development. The action.

McCollum is also a free agent. His market is somewhere around $35 to $40 million over one or two years, and his playoff collapse — he went from the most dangerous scorer on the floor in Game 2 to a player the Knicks' defense had fully solved by Game 6 — complicates the conversation about whether Atlanta brings him back. If Brown is the answer to the closer problem McCollum exposed, the money allocated to McCollum becomes the money that makes Brown possible. It's connected. The offseason is always connected.

And then, on June 23 at Barclays Center, the Hawks pick eighth. Pick 23. Possibly pick 57. Aday Mara — the 7-foot-3 center from Michigan who passes like a guard and is 19 years old — is the name that keeps appearing at the top of Atlanta's projected board. Darius Acuff Jr. out of Arkansas averaged 23.5 points per game and is the kind of guard who might address the creation gap directly. Neither player is a shortcut. Both are investments in what the roster becomes at 26, 27, 28 — which is a version of this question answered slowly rather than quickly.

The Knicks didn't get to the Finals slowly. They got there because Brunson wanted the ball in tight spaces and nobody on the other side could stop him from having it. The Hawks have five players who score between 14 and 23 points per game. They don't have the one who scores 28 in the moment everyone else goes quiet.

The franchise player departure pattern is the deepest current in Hawks history. Dominique. Mutombo. Horford. Millsap. Trae. Nobody who has mattered here has ever retired in this building. Jalen Johnson, signed through 2030, is the first real chance to change that. Every decision between now and June 25 is, at its core, a decision about whether Atlanta builds something worth staying for.

The Knicks told them what staying for it looks like. They swept through the East with a franchise centerpiece who decided the city was worth it. That's not just a basketball argument. That's a template.

The Tilt

Brown isn't a shortcut — he's proof the Hawks believe what they built.

Simone Edgewood

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Simone Edgewood

Culture & pulse — basketball as Atlanta culture, not just sport.